Thinking Out Loud
by Phenylketonurics
Summary: An analysis of Octavius' feelings for Jedediah before, during, and after all three NatM movies. UPDATE: Second chapter up. From Jedediah's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

I had fallen in love with Jedediah.

It had taken me so long to realize it. Sure, I had thought he certainly wasn't bad looking, and his strange pants fit him perfectly - no, I wasn't looking at his ass… alright, maybe I was, but it doesn't matter - but I never really registered more than that. I had despised him, in the beginning, all those years ago when we first came to life and we had clashed over land occupation. He was insufferable, pig-headed, loud, obnoxious, funny, sweet, not to mention attractive; I had admitted that to myself even then. But I hated him.

Sure enough, that hatred turned into friendship when the night guard Larry got there. Larry had a way of making sure everyone worked together, and everyone benefitted. Once Jedediah and myself had finally seen eye to eye, I learned that he was a friend that I wouldn't give up for the world. We formed a strong bond quickly, and it became clear that neither of us would abandon the other.

We became inseparable. We found ourselves in the RC many nights, Jedediah driving, laughing loudly and so carefree, and it often struck me how beautiful he really was. He was so young; he couldn't be more than twenty-five. Maybe this was another reason I had denied myself the realization that I loved him. We weren't real, per se; we had memories, and we felt, but it was strange and diluted, just a shadow of what might have been if we had been living. But I was forty-one, in my own right, and that just didn't feel right. He came from another time, a younger time; I didn't know if he wanted to be with a man, let alone one as old as I.

And so when I found myself noticing the knight's eyes, I was surprised to see something in Jedediah: he walked maybe just a little closer to me, his posture maybe a bit more rigid. But I was probably imagining it.

At that point I had felt what was happening, and I was trying to prevent it as much as possible. But I couldn't keep myself from asking him to hold my hand, or looking at him, especially when we were running together form the fires of Pompeii or riding in the running Attila's hat. He was just so effortlessly attractive.

It really wasn't fair.

It wasn't until we were up on the roof of the British Museum and I thought we were going to die that it really hit me. Jed had accepted my hand, and was prepared to die by my side. And I knew that I would never get a chance to tell him how I felt about him.

But we lived, and if we looked at each other for longer than usual, well, we didn't say anything about it. Even when we decided that we'd go back to New York without the tablet, I couldn't bring myself to even look at Jedediah, let alone tell him anything. I was a natural leader, but I could not deal with matters of the heart. So I let it die with whatever semblance of humanity we had.

As I felt the sun coming up for what I thought would be the last time, I took one last look at the wall that separated our cities, and I didn't look away. People would come to the museum to see the cowboy and the Roman, looking at each other through the wall.

I felt the time pass and yet it was as if I had been there for half a second and I felt my heart start to beat, the air flooding my lungs. I blinked for a moment, confused, and then I heard his voice, and it was like a weight was lifted off of my chest.

Now, standing on what Nick had called a "DJ table," my eyes found Jedediah again. He had convinced me to climb up her with him, and we were turning the disc with a strange scratching noise. His hips jerked with each movement and a grin lit up his face. And in that moment, I decided I didn't care anymore.

There are certain advantages to being smaller than everyone and everything else. I was able to easily pull him down and slide down the side of the table with him following, confused. I pushed him under the table and then my lips were on his, and he didn't move, but I didn't care, it had been too long. I couldn't remember why I hadn't done this before.

And then his hands were pulling my helmet off and twisting into my hair and I knew I couldn't live - or sleep - without him ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

I really, really hated Octavius.

I hated his stupid clothes and stupid words and stupid city. I hated his stupid pretty face, I hated his stupid eyes that seemed to lock onto my own and keep my in place. But most of all, I hated how he made me feel. I wanted to cry and laugh and puke all at once and I couldn't stand it.

So I threw myself into the war we had started between our men and our cities and made myself despise him with every fiber of my being. But then Larry showed up, and he wouldn't put up with our fighting. I was angry at first - couldn't he see I just _had _to fight the stupid Roman with his stupid face? But eventually I got over it and let myself become his friend. In all honesty, I rather liked being his friend rather than his enemy.

I was reckless, and I knew that; sometimes I would throw myself into unstable situations just to see the look on Octavius' face, because I knew he'd never leave me alone. So I always drove just a little too fast, talked just a little too loud, because I knew that I'd never leave him alone either, but he didn't need to know that.

At one point he became distant, and started frowning more. I didn't like it. So I made sure he got the message that I wasn't going anywhere without outright saying it.

That would be awkward.

It wasn't for a few years after Larry showed up that I realized I might fancy him, and I quickly pushed it to the back of my mind. That was _wrong. _He didn't like me like that, couldn't like me like that - he was a guy too, not to mention a lot older than me. But I couldn't stop myself from sticking around, my traitorous mind often turning to how he smiled at me or how he probably didn't wear anything under his stupid skirt.

There are no words to describe how I felt when Octavius noticed the stupid knight's attractiveness. Yeah, he was good-looking, sure, but it was all very overrated. Not to mention the fact that he stole the tablet that kept us alive. _Hypnotic blue eyes, _he had said. So I made sure he didn't get too far from me, tried to act nonchalant.

Pretty sure I failed on that second part. Oh well.

And he had asked me to hold his hand. _Yes, okay, _my mind screamed at me. But that's not what came out. And when we were safe again, I couldn't help but notice how he refused to look at me.

But we had fun together. Even running from certain death more than once, we were laughing all along, and I liked that he was happy. Really, he didn't _look _old - I stopped that train of thought. Couldn't have that. Oh no.

And then we were _dying. _That was certainly a strange feeling. And as my strength faded, and I looked at the stars, so cold and distant, I felt like crying. Why had I rejected how I felt? Why hadn't I taken his hand when he'd asked? So I mumbled about _taking that hand now, _and it took all my willpower not to break down right there when I felt his fingers close around mine.

And then we were okay again. I was so caught up in the moment, if I had seen the glistening in Octavius' eyes I didn't really notice them as I unthinkingly threw my arms around him. It wasn't until we were back in our own museum in New York and I faced eternal separation from him that it hit me. I couldn't live without him, couldn't watch the years go by knowing that he was just a short walk away. But the sun was coming up. I had to. So I made our goodbye brief, and as I felt my body become heavy, I turned my head to look at the wall, where I knew he was standing on the other side.

It was in the blink of an eye and an eternity before I felt life take hold of me again. That meant a few things: Ahkmenrah was back, and probably Gigantor as well, and _oh my God I have to see Octavius. _

Our reunion was short and sweet, for the party was starting. I had convinced him to DJ with me, just for shits, and I looked at him when his hand wrapped around my forearm and pulled me off of the table. I followed, eyebrows raised, and didn't have any time to compute what was going on before we were hidden and _holy mother of Mary he's kissing me, what do I do, what's going on?_

He clearly wasn't discouraged, because even though it took me what felt like years to respond, he kept at it - and I suddenly felt from him what I'd been feeling all along. And I wanted to cry.

I certainly wasn't letting him go again, I decided as I pulled his stupid helmet off and clenched my fists in his stupid hair.


End file.
